Attentive Devotion
by pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: One Shot: Natasha isn't feeling very well, and despite trying to fight against her illness she ends up succumbing to the role of a reluctant patient nursed by Steve Rogers.


_"__Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can."  
__― __Dodie Smith_

* * *

Natasha awoke, a dull thud throbbing at her temples, her throat tingled with a constant soreness that seemed to follow down her neck before manifesting on her chest. Her face contorted into a look of contempt as she rolled her body over to look at the digital clock beside her bed, even the mere movement induced her body to a resounding ache that pulsated through her limbs, she saw it was 9:45am and she let a pained groan escape her lips. This however caused her chest to tighten and almost freeze before wracking her body with a deep throaty cough, as she struggled to drag herself to a sitting position as her cough finally subsided. Finally in the sat up she felt the inevitable and aggravating presence of a blocked nose, and grabbing a tissue she blew her nose continuously for what seemed like an hour, to no avail. After that ordeal she pulled back the duvet and swung her legs out of the bed allowing the cool surrounding air of the room to collide with her skin, causing a shiver to work its way up her spine and goose bumps to adorn her skin. Natasha now threw her attention towards the task of getting changed and tackling the rest of the day.

Steve sat at the kitchen island perched on a stool perusing through a variety of files enlisting numerous potential threats to the protection of the world, interspersed with wanted criminals of the highest order. Absorbed in his reading it was not until he heard the slow trudging of small feet, that his attention was caught, looking up he saw Natasha dressed in black sweat pants and wearing a navy jumper of his that she had 'borrowed' and never returned. She looked miserable and he noted how her cheeks held no colour, her eyes had lost their usual playful sparkle instead they were underlined with dark grey and she looked positively awful. Her hair was tousled and messy, made so by the throes of a disturbed night's sleep and the fever induced sweat that had poured down her neck,

"Nat, are you okay? You don't look so good." Natasha looked through her lank tresses, her gaze meeting his, the cool azure eyes of the soldier exuded sympathy and concern and for a moment she wasn't sure she could endure it as it made her feel weak and helpless, a feeling she was not accustomed to. Natasha managed to wheeze out a response,

"I'm fine." However this provoked another onslaught of coughs that tore at Natasha's chest and throat, Steve immediately got up grabbing a glass and filling it with water before rushing to her side where he offered her the drink, and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders to accompany his distressed gaze. His eyes flitted over Natasha as if trying to search for a cause of this illness and an answer to treat it; Natasha took the glass once her cough had subsided slightly and wriggled from Steve's arm, before croakily stating,

"I'm fine nurse Rogers." A half-hearted smirk of amusement adorning her face, although a wince soon followed at the sharp twinge that shot across her forehead in response to her expression of jest. Steve ignored her joke, his brow creasing with worry causing his usually youthful looking features to age immediately,

"Nat you're clearly not well, you need to go back to bed and rest." Natasha lumbered away from him grabbing her favourite cup and dropping a green tea bag into it, before turning back towards him with a defiant pout painted across her lips,

"I've got a lot of stuff to do, so sitting in bed is not an option. Anyway you can't make me." Her voice was rough and crackly lacking its usual luscious deep velvet tone that could command anyone's attention in an instant. Turning away from him, he saw her shoulders tense and shake as she clearly fought to stifle an upcoming brutal coughing fit as she turned on the kettle. Walking towards her he placed himself at her side and sternly commanded her attention,

"Nat you need to rest." Natasha shook her head in refusal before repressing another cough; however she failed and allowed it to gently shake her letting the strangled sounds that escaped her throat melt into her cupped hand. Each cough that assaulted the spy's body seemed to make her weaker, and she felt her legs going to jelly and her eyes becoming heavy fighting against the threat of fatigue. Steve's lips slanted into a jaunty angle as he contemplated his next move, before he let out a heavy aggravated sigh,

"I can't believe I'm resorting to this." Before a jaded Natasha could respond Steve gently wrapped an arm around her waist and his other arm rested just behind her knees as he lifted her up with incredible ease. Natasha wriggled however her body was unable to respond in the same efficient vigour it usually would, letting her head loll backwards slightly she let a raspy whine escape her lips,

"Steve..." Steve walked steadily towards Natasha's room, ensuring that he didn't jolt her or hold her too tight which could cause further discomfort. Finally Natasha succumbed to the strong warm arms that held her so securely , allowing her head to rest on his chest and her eyes to close, before muttering,

"Nurse, you forgot my tea." He rolled his eyes however it was accompanied with an expression of amusement as a slight chuckle escaped his lips. He was amazed at Natasha's ability to resort to humour in times when, he himself would have thought of it as the last thing to comprehend, however he supposed it was her coping mechanism. A way for her to deal with her lack of control or wayward emotions because she could always deliver wit it was inherent and it always reminded her who she was. Who she really was.

Jarvis opened the door for Steve and Natasha, walking inside Steve gently placed her on the bed, before pulling back the duvet and tucking her in, much to the amusement of Natasha who let a fragmented chuckle escape her lips before her gravelly voice quipped,

"Steve I'm not paralysed I can move my limbs." However she let him, as her illness had weakened her will to fight back against a pandering Steve. Clint and Natasha were very similar; therefore despite Clint's protectiveness over Natasha his bedside manner was not as astute, but was more limited to chucking a lemsip and some paracetamol in her direction and occasionally bringing her badly made cups of tea. Another soft smile graced Steve's lips in response to her witty remark, a smile that Natasha had started to become way too fond of, she liked the way it caused two little dimples to appear that erased the shadows of a man beyond his years. Placing the box of tissues closer to Natasha, he stood surveying the room before declaring his intentions,

"Right I'm going to get you some medicine, so stay where you are. Jarvis is on look out so if you move from this bed I will know about it. If you need anything give me a ring okay... I won't be long." As he turned to walk towards the door he heard her rough voice reverberate through the calm silence of the room causing him to address his attention back to her,

"Hey Rogers, don't forget my tea... and if it's badly done I won't make your nursing duties any easier." Despite her red nose, pale complexion and dark eyes she managed an expression of triumphant smugness, which Steve met with a gentle admiring glance,

"I won't forget your tea, now rest up that voice of yours and stop teasing." As he left Natasha felt a cold darkness befall the room in his absence, grabbing for her phone she started to sift through her emails. Even if she was bed bound by the Captain, she refused to be completely incapacitated.

Steve entered the room to find Natasha had propped herself up against a pillow and was looking over a file, whilst also paying very close attention to her phone which she was typing on incessantly. Interrupting her attentive stupor Steve's voice ripped through the air, a tone of warning ever present,

"Nat... This doesn't look like resting." Looking up she saw that he had in one hand her cup of tea, a blanket was tucked neatly under his arm and in the other he held a plastic bag that must contain a numerous amount of medicines intended to make her feel better. Looking up at him, a sarcastic mocking smile spread across her lips as she held up a piece of paper which had written on it,

_You said not to leave the bed, and I haven't and I also haven't spoken so... :)_

A triumphant expression now adorned her features however it soon backfired as she erupted into yet again another fit of ferocious coughing, which caused Steve to swiftly place her tea on the bedside table before perching himself on the edge of the bed. Sifting hurriedly through the plastic bag for some cough medicine, he muttered under his breath,

"That serves you right for being so smug." This comment was met by Natasha with a violent gaze laced with daggers, and a scowl that could curdle milk, as Steve looked up in victory at finally finding what he was looking for, a sheepish grin crept across his lips,

"Surely it's my turn to make mocking remarks..." A look of subjection now took hold of Natasha's features, as she shrugged allowing him to goad her just this once,

"Anyway I've brought you some cough medicine and flu tablets, which... it says will clear your blocked nose, soothe your throat and get rid of your headache. Also I brought an additional blanket and as the patient requested your tea, which I added some honey to for your throat. So is there anything else you need before I make you some soup?" Natasha grabbed the piece of paper she had used to communicate before and wrote on it quickly before turning it to Steve to read,

_Are you trying to drug me? _

Steve chuckled affectionately before undoing the cap on the cough medicine bottle and pouring the correct amount into the measuring cup,

"Here reluctant patient, drink this." Passing it to her she poked her tongue out at him before downing the brown liquid easily, an expression of disgust adorning her features in the aftermath of its consummation. Taking the empty cup from her hand he placed it on the bedside table along with the bottle before taking out a flu capsule and passing it to her along with her cup of modified green tea. Natasha looked thoroughly un-amused but adhered to his request, swallowing the capsule and sipping her beverage before placing it back on the side. Distracted from her current task, Steve swiped the file from her lap before stepping swiftly away from the bed and sternly addressing her,

"Now rest Nat, I'll be right back." A sulky pout now decorated Natasha's lips before she slumped into the pillow in ungracious defeat watching him walk away smirking in merriment at Natasha's childish response to instruction.

Steve returned a mere ten minutes later laden with a tray containing a bowl of vegetable soup, a glass of water and a large pink peony in a vase. Natasha looked up from under her heavy lashes, and despite the resounding feeling of fatigue that was weighing her down she smiled appreciatively up at Steve as he waited for her to sit up. Managing to shuffle into a suitable sitting position Steve placed the tray carefully on her lap once she was ready; looking at the peony she chuckled silently, as a blush broke out across Steve's cheek bones,

"I know its cliché bringing someone flowers when they're ill, but I... I just thought it might cheer you up... It's silly I know..." Before Steve could continue Nat brought her hand softly to his in comfort and gratitude for his thoughtfulness before digging into her soup. Steve brought the stool placed by Natasha's dressing table next to the bed, before sitting comfortably and continuing his study of the file he had been looking at prior to Natasha's entrance into the kitchen. Once she had consumed as much soup as she could currently stomach, she sipped at her glass of water admiring the beautiful pink flower before her, her eyes occasionally flitting over towards the handsome golden-haired soldier. Noting that Natasha had finished her soup he lifted the tray from her lap, placing the peony on her bedside table and putting the tray by the door before returning to the stool he was currently residing,

"I hope it was okay I always found that before the serum if I was ill, which unfortunately was a lot, vegetable soup always helped." A warm affectionate smile accompanied his tender words as she replied with an equally cheery smile, before typing on her phone and holding it out for him to read,

_Thank you cheese ball :)_

A gleaming grin broke out across Steve's face, and Natasha found it so endearing it nearly induced another coughing fit, however luckily it subsided as she shimmied back down into the covers pulling the additional blanket up around her as sleep took hold. After a few minutes Steve looked up to see Natasha deep in sleep, her mouth slightly ajar due to her inability to breathe through her nose, curled up into a cocoon made of her duvet and blanket. Although her nose still held its crimson colouring and her skin was still deathly pale she looked more peaceful and serene and he hoped that she was getting better. Although he knew that she only had the flu, and that it could be easily treated, Steve couldn't dismiss the way his muscles tensed involuntarily and how every ten minutes he unconsciously looked up to check on her. Before the serum Steve himself had dealt with his fair share of illnesses, of being confined to his bed and the torturous look of concern that adorned his mother's brow during his bout of sickness. She always dedicated all her effort into making him feel better, sacrificing her own precious time to see that he was comfortable and recovering well, from her he had learnt the importance of selflessness and maybe that was something that had diminished within people of the 21st century. In addition to his inherent belief to care for the ill in the most self-sacrificing manner, Steve could not ignore the fondness he had developed for Natasha. If questioned he would deny any significant attachment, but anyone observant enough would be able to see likewise. The way his eyes sparkled just a little more brightly whenever she entered the room, adopting an enamoured gaze that lit up his features, coercing a charming smile as he looked upon the one woman whose affection he craved. In the midst of the chaos of the modern age she grounded him, he knew her ways and nature and when everything else became terrifyingly unpredictable Natasha was there to remind him he wasn't alone.

Assuming that Natasha was asleep Steve moved to stand, intending to take the discarded tray to the kitchen however as he stood Natasha's hand reached out wrapping around his wrist in protest at his attempt to leave, her eyes remained closed but from her lips he heard the muffled word,

"**Stay**." Tugging him towards the bed she shuffled over lazily giving him room to join her on the bed, smilingly adoringly at her he adheres to her wish, sitting down beside her whilst pulling the blanket back around her. Once seated he's pleasantly alarmed to feel Natasha's small hand slip from his wrist, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his as she drifts back to sleep, momentarily paralyzed by the feeling of her hand in his it takes a few moments before he relaxes and his thumb starts to gently caress the back of her hand. Indulging in the touch of her petite hand, Steve allows his eyes to close and before long he too dozes off. **In his final moments of consciousness Steve marvels at all that has occurred today, and concludes that in the moments of suffering and infirmity perhaps this is where the beginnings of love and affection are forged, and he hopes in her feverous haze Natasha feels the same.**


End file.
